Blame It On the Eggnog
by Seraphina Greene
Summary: Kurt sees Blaine putting presents under the tree on Christmas Eve wearing a Santa suit! He swears it's the eggnog, but he's feeling just a tiny bit more festive around his husband. Their daughter, Elizabeth, sees them kissing under the mistletoe...but she doesn't see what happens behind closed doors.Basically, it's like my other fic, I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus, but with smut.


Kurt had read an article nearly three weeks ago that said that homosexual male couples have more sex than heterosexual couples and homosexual female couples combined (Alright, so it was _Blaine_ who'd found the article and insisted he read it, but he'd found it quite fascinating). What shocked him, however, was how true that statement was. All the lesbian and straight couples he'd met who had children had sex…what, once or twice a month normally? For Kurt and Blaine, to have sex once or twice a _day_ was considered slow.

Even then, however, he never thought he'd get turned on by the sight of Blaine in a _Santa suit_ of all things.

It had all started when Blaine insisted on teaching their two children, Cooper ("Coop") and , Elizabeth ("Lizzie"), about Santa Claus. This all had begun when Coop was very small, when he was only about four, before Lizzie was even in the picture. Kurt had taken this in stride, they had agreed to compromise on these sorts of things, and Kurt could remember a time when his own father, Burt, had done the same with him.

So Blaine had insisted on dragging him from store to unfashionable store, looking for the perfect Santa costume.

By the time they were done, curled into a booth together in their favorite coffee shop and cradling their coffees as warmly as they did each other, the fashion-diva and shopping-enthusiast that Kurt was by nature had declared it the second-worst shopping trip he'd ever experienced. Second only to the time, several years ago, when his father insisted on dragging him off to buy new socket wrenches for the shop. They'd spent two-and-a-half hours deciding on certain types. Kurt had been waiting so long that he was debating on sacrificing the Say Yes to the Dress marathon on TLC to hand wash his new Marc Jacobs sweater if it meant he could sit down, albeit on the grease-and-dirt-covered floor.

All in all, Blaine hadn't let Kurt see him in the jolly red man's costume. Every Christmas after, Kurt would fall asleep early, and wouldn't wake up until Coop ran into his room to tug on his arm, begging him to get up so she could open his presents. Years later, it was Lizzie who'd tug on his arm, Coop had favored Blaine's arm instead.

The Christmas Eve that Lizzie turned six, however, changed quite a lot.

Kurt, like every year before, was asleep in the bed he shared with Blaine. Lizzie and Coop were tucked into their beds, sound asleep, so Blaine snuck out to perform the Christmas ritual he'd perfected.

Blaine stumbled in from the direction of the fireplace, a sack filled with toys slung over his shoulder. Placing it by the base of the tree, he sat down in the big, high-backed chair. Slipping the fake white beard down, he nibbled away at the Christmas cookies and finished them off with a wash of milk.

Kurt's sleepy eyes fluttered open. For some sudden reason, he had a strong craving for eggnog. Forgetting completely what day it was, he crawled out of bed, and yawning, he stumbled out of the bedroom to where the kitchen opened up to the living room.

Opening the cupboard door, he pulled out a mug. Closing the cabinet door, he crossed to the fridge to pull out the eggnog. Pouring himself a glass, he put the carton back in the fridge.

Carrying the mug with him, he leaned against the pass-through to watch, sipping it slowly, smirking as he drank, watching Blaine as he darted around merrily, Kurt's eyes dancing knowingly as he watched.

Then Blaine turned from where he'd placed the presents under the tree. Upon seeing the sleepy-eyed man, he tsked, saying, "Now, don't you know better than to be awake when Santa's here? I might have to rethink your "Nice" status and leave you nothing but coal, young man."

Gulping down the rest of the eggnog, Kurt set the glass aside. Striding over to him, he wrapped his arms around Blaine, pulling the beard down from his face to kiss the shorter man's lips.

"You know, Santa Claus," Kurt murmured through kisses, "I wouldn't mind getting coal for Christmas if it means I can be naughty with you."

Smiling, Blain leaned into the kiss as he looked up at the mistletoe.

From the hallway behind them, two pairs of eyes peeked out, going unnoticed.

Lizzie tugged gently on her older brother's nightshirt. "Coop, what's Daddy doing with Santa?" She whispered, hugging her stuffed hippo to her chest.

"I-I think they're _kissing_." He made a face to emphasize the point.

Lizzie frowned. "But what about Papa? Wouldn't he get mad if he knew?" She asked as Coop guided her back to her room.

He shook his head. "Didn't you see that plant hanging above them, Lizzie? That's mistletoe. Everyone knows if you're under mistletoe you gotta kiss. Papa would understand."

Her questions answered, Lizzie smiled softly and curled into bed. "Okay." She said quietly, and allowed herself to give in to the tendrils of sleep beckoning to her.

Coop made his way to his own bed, but not before stopping to smile back at the two men in the living room. He was old enough to understand that they kept up the Santa act for Lizzie. He already knew that it was his _Papa_ under the Santa disguise. Stifling a small chuckle, he slid sleepily into his room, accidentally pressing play on the long-paused CD-radio in the hallway.

Kurt and Blaine looked up, startled, as the last few notes sang out of the player from the previous song. Then a new one began to play as Kurt dragged his husband to the bedroom.

"_I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus  
Underneath the mistletoe last night."_

Blaine made quick work of the Santa suit, getting out of the layers as quickly as he could.

"_He didn't see me creep  
down the stairs to have a peep;"_

"So, what do you do when you've caught children out of bed, Santa?" Kurt asked softly, practically purring in Blaine's ear.

"Mmmm." Was the response Kurt got as Blaine kissed him, hard. "That depends on how naughty the children I find are."

"_He thought that I was tucked  
up in my bedroom fast asleep."_

"Well," Kurt began as he managed to strip himself down to naked skin, "I've been awfully bad this year. But doesn't everyone deserve something for Christmas?"

Blaine smirked, pulling off the rest of his clothing so he lay naked beside his husband, "Maybe I can leave you a different gift instead."

"_Then, I saw Daddy tickle Santa Claus  
Underneath his beard so snowy white;"_

"Oh? And what would that be?" Kurt asked, feigning innocence as he slowly closed his hand around Blaine.

Gasping, the brunette barely managed to keep himself in check. Flipping them both over, he put Kurt on his hands and knees, the hand falling from him quickly. Pulling the cheeks open, he used his saliva to prep his husband until he was slick, sliding into him in a single, clean stroke.

"_Oh, what a laugh it would have been  
If Papa had only seen  
Daddy kissing Santa Claus last night."_

Blaine's tongue enter-twined with his, mouths colliding, a quick and passionate dance of limbs. It was faster than they normally took it, but they'd spent too much time teasing each other to wait any longer.

"Blaine, sweetheart, I'm—!" Kurt cried softly.

Capturing Kurt in his grasp, Blaine continued to rock forward, drawing out the pleasure as he adjusted, brushing against Kurt's prostate as he plunged. That was what sent them both over the edge.

When they fell, they fell together, and he slid out of Kurt only so that they could curl into each other's arms under the covers.

"I love you, Blaine." Kurt whispered softly.

"I never knew you had such a Santa fetish, Kurt."

"It was the eggnog, Blaine. I think it's old." Kurt replied, smacking his arm feebly.

"Uh-huh. Sure." Blaine chuckled in response.

"Oh, just go to sleep."

And so they did.

And no matter how many times Blaine brought it up, drunk or sober or just to embarrass him, Kurt always blamed it on the eggnog, no matter what the truth had been.


End file.
